96 Hours
by RestlessRenegade
Summary: When a member of the team goes missing, Kurama realizes he will do almost anything to find him.
1. Chapter 1

Began: August 2009

Hello and welcome to another story by yours truly. Out of all of the multi-chaptered stories I've posted so far, this one is the newest (and, if I may say so, most well-written) of them all. Therefore, I'm extremely excited to present it to you. Pretty soon now, I think I'll retire from fanfiction, and when I do, I will be happy to know that this is one of the last things I wrote. I tried so very, very hard to keep everyone in character and keep you entertained; I hope you'll find this worth reading. This is the highly edited version; you will soon find the full version on other sites (see my profile.)

**96 Hours******

1. The Stakes

It was by sheer luck that they caught her. She would have made it away if it hadn't been for Kuwabara's spiritual senses; he barely realized that she had left the fight moments after she'd done so. He chased her, panting and dodging trees, through at least a mile of forest before she tripped on a root and went sprawling. Kuwabara saw her too late to stop running himself—his long gait was hard to cease on a dime. He flew over her, and only stopped her from diving away yet again by latching a hand around her ankle. He pulled her closer to him and tried to hold her still; he couldn't in all his honor fight her, but he couldn't let her escape, either.

Kurama and Yusuke came running not long after, and that was good, because while she was too small to get away from Kuwabara, he was already tired of keeping her as close to him as possible. She bit and scratched, kicked and screamed, and in the end, Kurama subdued her with a whiff of some plant. He offered no explanation, but no one asked for one—Kurama was in no mood to be questioned, and the important part was that she was now their captive. Yusuke and Kuwabara never saw her again after the ogres carried her off to a deep cell within the Spirit World prison. Kurama did not accompany her unconscious body or the guard that took her down there, though he wanted to; there was more to attend to upstairs, first. He only prayed that she would not find a way to escape the burly ogre in charge of her.

"We are one step closer to finding Hiei," Koenma said, trying to cheer them up. Kurama's face was a mask of stone and ice; he would not let his anger show through just yet. He needed Koenma in a semi-pleasant mood if he wanted to get somewhere with their hostage.

"I bet she doesn't even know where he is," Kuwabara muttered. He sounded put-off, but it was hard not to when Hiei had been missing—kidnapped, they hoped—for three weeks.

"I'm going out to search again," Yusuke said, heading for the door before anyone could stop him. For a minute, Kuwabara hesitated. Then he followed the shorter boy out of the office. Neither Koenma nor Kurama made an attempt to stop them. When the door had shut behind the boys, Kurama turned to face the little ruler again.

"Yusuke hasn't slept in days, has he?" the prince asked. Kurama shook his head slightly; to his knowledge, Yusuke hadn't slept a full night's sleep since Hiei's disappearance. He also hadn't had much to eat, but Koenma didn't necessarily need to know that. He was worried enough about all of them as it was.

"Koenma, I have a favor to ask of you," Kurama began carefully. It was not so much that he worried that Koenma would deny his request—his actions wouldn't change much if Koenma did—but he would feel better about his plans if he had consent of the little god.

"If it's about the prisoner . . ." Koenma guessed correctly. He looked at Kurama with narrowed eyes, but the fox did not flinch.

"I know that Spirit World is subject to many laws regarding captives and their treatment. I know that there isn't much you can do about her, or to use her to help us find Hiei."

"But, as a human who merely works for me, you think _you_ can use her," Koenma guessed again. His eyebrows were coming together on his face; the wrinkles looked like seams in his pale skin. Kurama thought that Yusuke wasn't the only one getting little sleep lately.

"I do."

"Yusuke and Kuwabara—"

"Will know nothing of this," Kurama said, his tone already beginning to show anger. Koenma's eyes widened a bit in retaliation. "They won't understand, and they would better serve Hiei by going on their searches," Kurama explained, though he didn't at all feel like it.

"The searches are fruitless," Koenma said, leaning back in his chair. Kurama realized that the demigod was about to have a lengthy discussion with him, and it ruffled his metaphorical feathers. He did not have time to debate ethics of imprisonment.

"No, they aren't. They make Yusuke and Kuwabara feel as though they are accomplishing something, and they might stumble upon Hiei's location or a lead, though the odds are admittedly low. Most importantly, it will keep them busy while I turn my attention elsewhere," Kurama said, folding his arms. He was not going to be stubborn—he was going to be _impossible_. There was no time for leniency.

"Are you sure Hiei's alive?" Koenma asked for the umpteenth time. Kurama wondered whether Koenma didn't subconsciously wish that Hiei would simply turn up dead; that would give them all a little less reason to worry. Of course, Koenma would already know if Hiei was dead, given his role in the afterlife—which made Kurama all the angrier to have to answer that question again.

"I'm positive," he said confidently. "I've seen your cells in the upper prison block. They will function well for my purpose. I'll need one furnished to my exact specifications, and I need a competent guard, as well."

Koenma rubbed his temples, sighing slowly. It was a long time before he looked back up at Kurama. "I'm on very thin ice, here, Kurama. You don't have the same obligations that I do to act humanely toward my captives . . . and yet, you work for me. It could be said that in letting you do this, I authorized it and am responsible in the long run."

"I understand your position," Kurama began, his anger making his tone somewhat testy. Koenma had his job to lose; Kurama had his best friend. It was hard to be sympathetic. "No one needs to know what goes on there besides me and a few ogres. If you have any strong ones to spare, I'd appreciate it. They need to be trustworthy, as well," Kurama said.

Koenma sighed yet again; this one was more for melodramatics. "How many do you need?"

"As many as you can give me. I want a constant watch on her by at least two guards. It would also help if I could remain in Spirit World until it's over." Koenma stood on his chair; that way, he was only a few inches shorter than Kurama. The fox's eyes held a cool gaze of something he couldn't quite read. He wouldn't call it _evil_, but that was too close for comfort.

"Kurama, there are some laws I cannot bend. Specifically the one pertaining to how long we keep a prisoner who has not been sentenced to a jail term."

The fox paused. This was the only part of his plan that required some sacrifice; the longer he kept the captive under his thumb, the better the situation. Then again, they didn't know how long Hiei would be able to hold out in his current condition (whatever that was; Kurama knew he was alive, but not much else) and Koenma had a point. They couldn't keep her forever, as much as Kurama would have liked to. "I am only requesting ninety-six hours," Kurama said.

Koenma looked at him as though he'd sprouted a long glowing horn on his head. "Ninety-six? Are you sure?"

"That will be quite sufficient, as long as I have your consent for what I've planned and what I need."

Koenma hesitated for a long, long time—longer than Kurama could stand. He was practically shaking by the time that Koenma nodded. "I grant you permission to hold this captive for ninety-six hours beginning at the start of the next one, which is five o'clock pm today, Sunday, the 21st of October, by the human calendar," he said, and Kurama bowed in thanks. "You may take my twelve most trusted ogres, and whatever specifications you ask for her cell will be fulfilled."

"Thank you, Koenma. I promise, this will be effective." Kurama turned to go; the prisoner had already been waiting too long.

"Prove it to me by finding Hiei," Koenma said, talking a bit louder to make sure that Kurama heard. "And Kurama?"

"Yes?" Kurama said, somewhat impatiently. His hand was already reaching for the handle of the door, but Koenma ignored it.

"Don't kill her."

Kurama could have laughed, had the situation not been so desperate. "There is no need to tell me that. Dead, she cannot help us. Alive, she could tell us where Hiei is."

"Good. Also, remember that if word gets out, you did this _without consent_. Remember that _I knew nothing_. And, of course, if you go down, _you go down alone_. I cannot afford to lose my position, especially with Hiei missing," Koenma said grimly. "Clear?"

"As ice," Kurama said, bowing slightly, and left the room. The door closed with a loud snap, and Koenma set about trying to ignore his protesting conscience.

* * *

NINETY-SIX HOURS REMAINING

The ogres that Koenma assigned to do his bidding were much more impressive than Jorge was. They were tall, burly, and strong, and they spoke little. Ten of them met Kurama on his way to the dungeons, as two of them had been the ones to escort the demoness to her cell. The biggest one spoke with Kurama as they went. He offered to lead them, but Kurama knew the way. "Your orders, sir?" the ogre asked, walking alongside Kurama as they navigated toward the prison. Kurama looked straight ahead, moving quickly.

"Do everything as I say. Tell no one what transpires in the dungeon. _No one. _I doubt even Koenma will want to know. If he asks, tell him to take it up with me. Speak nothing amongst yourselves. One of you will be in the room with our captive at all times. Another will watch outside the room at all times. Make sure that the shift changes leave no room for error. Keep your guards well-rested and well-fed. Shifts of four hours—six of you outside and six inside—will be sufficient."

After a long pause, the burly ogre, who, truth be told, was frightened of the hard eyes of this "human," spoke again. "Anything else, sir?"

"Not yet. I want to speak to our guest and examine the room before I make any more requests. After, I'll need someone to show me to a spare room where I can stay until this business is done."

"How long will that be?" the ogre asked quietly.

"Ninety-six hours at the most. Hopefully, it will be quite less than that." The rest of the walk passed in silence. Kurama was thinking too hard to make idle chatter, and the large ogre seemed to recognize this. Kurama knew that Hiei was alive, but he had told no one _how _he knew that—mostly because he believed that it would hinder rather than help them. Hiei was currently just powerful enough to make a telepathic connection with the fox—one that he hardly ever dropped. On the rare times that it was severed, Kurama assumed that Hiei was hibernating. The fact that this had happened more than once in three weeks, however rarely, frightened Kurama. The news from Hiei was both good and bad. That he was able to contact Kurama told the fox several things—he still had control of his Jagan eye (somewhat,) and the enemy didn't know the extent of his powers, or the enemy had no way of discouraging Hiei from using his Jagan. Hiei was alive, and semi-conscious. Some of the messages had been scrambled and slightly incoherent, but only once or twice had they been complete gibberish.

More than actual thoughts came emotions. The great majority of these were negative; fear, anger, shame. The last more so than any other, and Kurama could only imagine what might be making Hiei feel this way. The fire demon usually controlled most of his emotions well, but when they came across the telepathic channel, they were unbridled and strong. Kurama was beginning to feel somewhat unbalanced himself. The bad news of Hiei's messages: the enemy had captured him, the enemy was somehow keeping him too weak to escape (and in a state of slight delusion), and the enemy was torturing him. As they walked, heels clicking lightly on the tiled floor, Kurama dragged his mind away from Hiei's current situation. He had seen too much—had_ done _too much—not to know what Hiei could be suffering now.

Demons tortured for two reasons, primarily: information or pleasure. It was unlikely that they were torturing Hiei for information; he didn't know any top-secret Spirit World business, and he knew little about it in general. Without the ties to Spirit World, Hiei was as anonymous as any other demon. The enemy had known enough about the team to capture one of the stronger members, and probably needed to know nothing more about them. Therefore, pleasure: a sadist with no rationality other than the high he got from causing pain. Hiei _would_ talk eventually—anything for release, after a certain point—but it wouldn't matter. Nothing he did would matter in this situation. There were two ways out: death and rescue. Kurama was very intent that the latter should be the event to transpose, and he tried to convey this to Hiei at every opportunity. Occasionally the response was good, and other times it was as if Hiei hadn't heard him at all. These times made Kurama fear that the situation was worse than he'd believed.

He had walked to the dungeons only once before, and on that occasion he had been heading toward Hiei. Now, he was heading toward the person who might be able to locate Hiei. The parallelism did not escape the fox as he finally turned to the long, dark staircase that would bring them to the cells of the Spirit World prison. The prison was broken into upper and lower divisions; demons like Hiei, with extraordinary or rare powers that might help them break out of the prison were kept on the lower level. Kurama's captive was currently being held on the upper level, which was still several flights below the rest of the compound. It was drafty down there, and at least three flights before the bottom. They walked carefully, some of the ogres taking up burning torches from their places on the walls. Kurama could hear only muffled scuffling from the inhabitants of the prison; the captives held here were serving their sentences, and some of them would never be released. Finally, they came to the end of the stairs. It was a long hallway, filled with doors that were solid metal except for a doggie-flap on the bottom (for food) and a small one-way mirror at eye level, showing a good view of the prisoner inside the room. The doors swung in, he noted carefully. No detail was too small; he filed and saved every bit of sensory input for further use against his enemy. They walked to a door about halfway down the hall before stopping in front of it. This was room number 343.

A guard used a personalized key to open the door; it was a combination microchip and old-fashioned tumbler lock. Kurama frowned slightly at that, as they were somewhat easy to break into. Of course, the problem would come from someone wanting to break out, theoretically. Though the hallway was dark, the room that they walked into was brightly lit. There were long bars of light on the ceiling, and few shadows. A chair sat in the center of the room, and there was a folded-up one in the corner. A guard was standing near the door, watching the captive with bored (but cognizant) eyes. He looked no different from the other ogres, and Kurama paid him no mind.

Their captive, their one link to Hiei, was sitting in the chair. She wasn't very impressive; with pale skin, shoulder-length, choppy brown hair, and large blue eyes, she looked like any other demon Kurama had ever seen. She wore a tank top and sweat pants for fighting, and her shoes were humble. She clasped her hands—dirty and calloused—in her lap, but she looked at them without fear, submissiveness, or surprise. Thick metal shackles connected her wrists and ankles. She was thin, and somewhat sickly, and didn't look as though she could put up a good fight. However, Kurama was wary as he entered the room. It would not do to have her escape or wound anyone else while she was here.

The demoness—Gail, though Kurama didn't know it yet—looked at the redhead with silent trepidation. It was not that he seemed particularly note-worthy; other than _appearing_ human, he was unremarkable. She had seen him once before, at the fight where she'd been caught by that foolish human. His fighting had been superior, but he hadn't seemed very dangerous. That impression had since changed. His eyes, most notably, were completely devoid of mercy or kindness. They looked at her as though she was the scum of the earth, or worse, and they looked as though they would not blink at the idea of ripping out her throat.

She held back a shiver, but just barely; he even walked like a feral creature, calm and collected but with anger giving his movements certain flair. The redhead brought the other chair over, sitting it in front of her. The ogre who had been in the room with her left to stand guard outside while the big one who had accompanied Kurama stepped in, closing the door behind him. He stood, vigilant, in the corner. There was nothing to do for it. She couldn't run; she'd seen the way these ogres walked, and they'd snap her legs if she tried it. But she also thought that this boy—he hardly seemed human, but she could smell little else on him—needed her for some reason, and he obviously needed her alive. Kurama sat in the chair across from the demon and put his elbows on his knees. He clasped his hands and rested his chin on them, staring at her very intently. There was nothing to hope for in that gaze. "Your name?" he asked, voice soft but stern.

"Gail," she said, seeing no reason to lie about something so trivial. It wasn't as if she needed an alias in the clutches of the enemy.

"You work for a demon called Rika, don't you?"

"Maybe."

"I don't have time to play games," Kurama said quickly, dropping his hands from his face. They dangled between his legs harmlessly, but Gail was afraid of them. They looked like killing hands.

"Well, obviously I have all the time in the world," she said, and smirked, gesturing around as far as her shackled hands would allow her. Kurama gave her a look of utter derision.

"A demon is missing—one who is very important to me and Spirit World," Kurama said, determinedly keeping his voice in check and his relationship with Hiei (friendship, that is to say) vague. The more desperate he appeared, the less impressive he would be to her.

"Is that so? Well, then, I guess I'm here because you think I know where he's being held," Gail guessed. She folded her arms; the chains gave her just enough leeway. The look on the redhead's face only darkened.

"I _know_ that you know where he is," Kurama said. "He is a fire demon, short, with a third eye and black hair. Rika has held him for just over three weeks."

"Hey, I'm just Rika's right-hand," she smiled mysteriously. "What do I know about the demons he kidnaps?"

Kurama stood abruptly, resting one hand on the back of his chair as he walked around it, looking away from her. "You have told me enough for now," he said. "Your first mistake was letting me know that you knew my teammate had been captured, and not murdered. Your second was telling me that you are in fact Rika's right-hand demon," he said, turning back to her slowly. "If you are indeed so important to him, then you will know where he operates, and where he is keeping my teammate."

"I-I . . ." Gail stuttered. How could she have been so stupid? She thought it was the expression on his face—even in victory, his eyes did not betray anything other than an icy chill.

"Am I to assume that you aren't going to tell me where he is right this minute?" Kurama asked. She probably knew that he wasn't going to kill her—couldn't afford to kill her—but it would be beneficial for her to fear him just the same.

"I'm keeping my mouth shut from now on," she said, and closed it tightly. Kurama almost smiled.

"I thought as much. Know this," he said, placing both hands on the chair and leaning slightly over it, looking directly into her eyes, "I have promised to release you in ninety-six hours. Therefore, I _will_ make you reveal the location of Rika's hideouts—all of them, if he has more than one—in the next four days, and I will use any means necessary to do so."

"You won't kill me," she sneered, and he had not seen such an ugly expression on any face in a long time. It was the expression of a cornered animal that needs to convince herself that she has the upper hand.

"No," he said softly, standing up straight. "No. But by the time you speak the name of the place where my comrade is being held, you will wish I had." The redhead turned and walked to the guard, keeping his steps slow and not revealing any of the anger that he felt. The guard saw his face before it was smoothed over, and recoiled slightly, praying that he could take the night shift when the fox would not be around.

"Take her clothes," Kurama instructed, looking at the guard with the intensity of a bright fire. "She will wear nothing from now on." He went to the door without looking back at Gail, who was staring with wide eyes at the back of his head. The guard on the other side opened the door—there was not even a handle on the inside—and let him out. Inside, he could hear the large guard wrestling the clothes from Gail's back. He turned away from the sound, feeling nothing. He looked at the guard who was stowing away the key he held and checking through the mirror every few minutes, which was exactly what Kurama wanted him to be doing.

"Keep the lights on tonight," Kurama said to him, his face neutral.

"All night, sir?" the ogre asked, slightly surprised. Kurama nodded slowly, realizing that this might be the first serious interrogation—if that was what it truly was—that any Spirit World employee had witness in centuries. He hoped the ogres wouldn't feel the need to blabber on about it to their friends or therapists. In any case, he was a hardened hand at extracting information from unwilling sources, and he knew enough about Gail to begin making preparations. This technique of keeping the enemy awake for days at a time was a cruel one, but it almost always yielded a positive result (for the interrogator.) With utter resolve, he stared the ogre in the face.

"Yes. She does not sleep tonight."


	2. Chapter 2

For me, one of Kurama's strongest moments is during the beginning of Chapter Black, when Kaito threatens to harm Botan's soul, and Kurama says, "I'm warning you. You so much as bruise what's in your hand and I'll show you pain." That scene MADE Kurama's character for me (along with the scene where Yomi finds out who blinded him). :D As you will notice, my intent with this fic was basically to push Kurama as hard as I could. I pushed until he started pushing back, and I tried to find the limits of his morality and character. Lemme know how that worked out.

**96 Hours**

**2. The Bluff**

NINETY-TWO HOURS REMAINING

The problem with good interrogation techniques was that they all took time, and that was one thing that Kurama did not have. He did not have a fortnight to gain Gail's trust and use it against her; he didn't have the months necessary to break her down in a useable and helpful fashion. He had gotten information from unwilling subjects before, but never in such a short amount of time. There were other restrictions. He could think of hundreds of ways to make someone say something he or she normally wouldn't, but Gail seemed to be beyond normal techniques. He didn't have the resources for complicated devices—he didn't even have a goddamn taser. So, he would have to improvise.

As he walked down the long stairs, he wondered why Spirit World hadn't yet put an elevator here; they were fond enough of them. It occurred to him that few traveled these steps, and somehow the thought was sobering. Spirit World, cruel as they could be, rarely kept prisoners for long unless it was a jail term. And terms were not long, at least not in demon years. He went right to the cell, ignoring the ones around him full (or empty) of prisoners. The guard outside was vigilant, which was always a plus. Kurama looked into the room for a moment, wanting to collect himself and his thoughts. He hadn't paid much attention to the make of it the first time he had been down here, earlier that afternoon; now, he wanted to know everything, and all he had to do was look for a few minutes. There was the chair that Gail sat in, the folded up one that he had sat in, a futon bed in the corner that was furnished with a blanket and pillow, a porcelain sink with hot and cold knobs, and a flushing toilet. The lights were built into the ceiling, and they were currently on, as he had instructed. Gail looked quite peaceful as she sat, which he thought was somewhat disconcerting. Then again, it was only nine at night, and most demons didn't have early bed times.

"I want the bed removed as soon as I leave tonight," he told the guard at the door, who nodded. "Are the sink and toilet connected to the same water lines?"

"As far as I know, they're not related. The sink was added in later, so it was attached to a fresh pipe," the guard said. Kurama nodded; the sink did look newer than the toilet.

"If it's possible, the water to the sink should be shut off. Leave the toilet water as it is. Also, does each cell have its own temperature controls?"

"Yes, sir. The panel is here," he said, pointing to the door. Kurama looked it over.

"I'm setting it to fifty degrees Fahrenheit. Do not change the setting unless I say so; make sure all the guards know that."

"I will, sir." The guard resumed his post as if he was afraid of looking at Kurama for too long. The fox would not let him out of it so easily.

"If she falls asleep and I am not readily available, you may hit or kick her until she wakes up. If you cannot wake her that way, douse her with cold water. If that doesn't work, break her arm."

The guard gave him a look that was hard to pinpoint; it was somewhere between awe and disgust. Finally, the ogre nodded. "As you say, sir."

"Open it," Kurama said, turning away, and let the guard use his key to open the door. It was still pleasant inside the room, but soon it would be much cooler. He'd need to find himself a jacket. Gail sat naked on her chair, looking almost happy. He suspected that she'd spent the last four hours being bored as hell. He stopped at the door, letting his eyes drift lazily over her body. It was much more to make her uncomfortable than for any benefit of his own; indeed, he saw a blush rising on her cheeks after she'd followed his line of vision.

He took the other chair and unfolded it in front of her so that he could sit across from her again. He looked at her with those piercing eyes, and she wondered vaguely whether he was an accomplished telepath. She supposed not—if he were, she surely wouldn't be here. He could just pluck the information he wanted out of her mind. He allowed his eyes to flicker back down to her body when she was looking at him, though he had never cared less about a female form than at that moment. "You can make this very easy for both of us," he said softly, rubbing his chin with one hand as though he was considering what to do with her. She smiled smugly and said nothing. "I could place you into protective custody. Rika would never be able to kill you if you passed any information to me. You would be safe from him."

At the implied insult, Gail spoke up before she could stop herself. She grasped the edges of her chair on either side, pulling the chain between her shackles taut. "You really are stupid, aren't you? You think Rika's forcing me to help him? Or that I'm afraid of him and can't speak because he'd kill me for betraying him?"

"If that's not so, why don't you—"

"Because I don't _want_ to help you. Why would I? Rika is a good friend. He has a way of messing with people that I find amusing, and he's generally kind to me. He's my comrade—don't you see?"

"_My_ comrade is being held by your Rika," Kurama said, his anger showing through his narrowed eyes. "I am not seeking to kill Rika. I'm looking for a good friend of my own."

"I don't care about your friend! What do either of you mean to me? I don't give a shit if he dies or doesn't die. Of course, Rika doesn't usually kill his captives, at least not for a while—he has too much fun with them to really want to kill them . . ." She drifted off, realizing too late that she had revealed more information than was prudent. She looked away, pressing her lips together.

Kurama shook, nails biting into his palms. That had become a bad habit of his. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not saying anything else. I know who you are; if I keep talking, you'll find a way to get me to slip up, and I'll say something else I didn't want you to know. From now on, you're getting nothing but silence from me." Kurama exhaled very slowly, his mouth a cruel slash in his face. She had to look away from his eyes after a while; they looked as though they could kill her if she stared into them for too long. He continued to glare at her long after she looked away, but her mouth remained, as promised, quiet.

"I doubt that," Kurama said, rising and placing the chair back against the wall. He went to the door and knocked once, signaling to the guard outside that he wanted out. As the key slid into the lock he said, "At the very least, you will scream."

* * *

SEVENTY-NINE HOURS REMAINING

He could see her lips pressing together tightly, and fed a little more energy into his plant. The green vines tightened around her, and she finally released a small yelp. It was a start. The ogre in the corner was shuffling uncomfortably, but Kurama did not dare excuse him—he needed to be careful with their only link to Hiei. They could not allow her to escape. He was as silent as she was until that point. She looked into his eyes for a long moment, pleading because she could not do so with her mouth, before another short pulse of energy made her cry out loudly and shut her eyes in hard winces. Blood was beginning to run onto the ground, and Kurama wondered whether he should authorize a cleaning. Perhaps not; when he was gone, it would serve to remind her of the pain he could bring.

"Where is Rika holding the fire demon?" he demanded, tone colder than the room. Gail shrieked, but it was nothing coherent, and he loosened his hold. He had wrapped thick green vines up her legs and arms, and there was another around her torso. Each vine was dotted with short, sharp thorns that pressed into her flesh.

Kurama used his energy to make the vines squeeze her as hard as he had yet, his anger flaring at her silence. Gail screamed a final time, but managed to keep the location behind her lips. Kurama, knowing a lost cause when he saw one (at least for the time being,) released his hold on the vines. They slowly slid away from her bleeding body, some of the thorns pulling at the wounds a little. The rose whip disappeared not long after, and Gail curled into a fetal position, making no noise at all. Kurama went upstairs for breakfast.

SEVENTY-FOUR HOURS REMAINING

Gail sat up straight when he came in. Her eyes were heavy and there were dark circles beneath them already; he was somewhat pleased to see that his hard work had led to a victory, even if it was a small one. She was also unbearably cold, without her clothes and with the temperature in the room being so low, and that was an even greater victory. However, her demeanor was mostly unchanged. She was slightly bloody from their last meeting, and some of her blood remained on the floor, but she met his gaze with a cool anger, and even smirked when she saw the white cup in his hand. "Thirsty?" he inquired, shaking the cup ever so slightly, so that the water could be heard sloshing around in it. He took a seat in front of her, face expressionless. She glared at him, momentarily removing her eyes from the water glass and then snapping them back to it.

"You know I am," she hissed, clenching her fists. He held the water out to her, and she reached to take it, but snatched her hand back immediately and grasped it with her other, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm not stupid," she said, voice tinted with injury.

Kurama looked down at the cup as though it was somehow amusing and swirled the water. It was a bit more than halfway full, and some sloshed over the sides, making Gail's stomach groan—which they both heard. "You may not be stupid, but you_ are_ thirsty." He held out the glass again. Just before she took it, he snatched it away, holding it high above his head. "Where is Rika's hideout?"

"Screw you," Gail shrieked, losing her composure for perhaps the first time. She sat on her hands, leaning forward with her eyes closed. "That's where his bloody hideout is."

Kurama lowered the water, swaying it back and forth in front of her so that she could hear the trickling of it. "Perhaps I should begin with a question easier to answer. What does Rika want with the fire demon?"

Gail bit her lip, narrowing her eyes at Kurama. "It's not as if that's a big secret, or anything," she said, hands coming to her sides in balled fists. "I'm sure you could figure that out on your own."

"I already have," Kurama said, tilting his head down. The cup was just out of her reach, and she watched it precariously.

"So telling you wouldn't betray anything," she thought aloud, eyes only for that glass of refuge.

"It really wouldn't," Kurama agreed.

"Rika is a sadist. Your friend was in the wrong place at the wrong time—I wouldn't envy him right now." Kurama gave her a glare so cold that she shivered. Jaw tight, he held the glass forward again. Gail reached out for it, and then flinched back again. "You drink first," she said through gritted teeth. He looked at her for a long moment—she was sure that he would refuse. But finally, he smiled. She didn't think she had ever seen a less pleasant expression in her life. He took a sip of the water, and then held the cup out to her. She snatched it from him without a second thought and began downing it, carefully tipping so that she didn't spill a drop. Kurama steepled his hands, watching the demon lick the inside of the cup to get every last drop.

"So, you believe that my colleague is feeling intense pain at the hands of your Rika?" Kurama asked, inspecting his nails and trying to sound nonchalant, while his entire body shook.

"That's an understatement," Gail said, licking her lips. She threw the cup from her, frustrated that it had held so little water.

Kurama scooted a bit toward her in his chair, his face blank. "Pain like this?" he asked, reaching out and slapping her across the cheek so fast that she missed it due to a blink. She rocked to the side, but didn't fall off her chair, clapping a hand to the spot where he'd hit her.

"You bastard," she cursed, rubbing her cheek.

"Or is it more like this?" Kurama asked, kicking her with lightning-speed. His foot connected with her gut, sending her falling backward out of the chair. She rolled away, coughing, praying that she wouldn't throw up all the precious water that she had just drank.

On all fours, Gail coughed, watching Kurama stand up out of the corner of her eye. "It's twenty times worse," she hissed, trying to smile and finding it difficult.

"Then it is equivalent to _this_," Kurama snapped, and Gail's vision doubled—then tripled. She felt an intense pain rip through her belly and fell to the floor, clutching her mid-section. Kurama walked nearby, and she tried to get away, but there was fire in her stomach; it felt as though she had taken part in corrosive acid cocktails. Kicking her feet, Gail screamed and hugged her stomach, where the center of the pain pulsed out through her limbs, causing her to convulse in pain. She gasped between screams, throwing her head back and forth. Kurama neared, looking down at her with utter revulsion written across his features. "Demon world plants are marvelous," Kurama said, kneeling next to her as she screamed and writhed. "The Burton bush's pollen is made of a bacterium that, when ingested by foragers, registers on the eater's nerve endings, causing intense pain at the source of digestion, and eventually spreading into the nervous system. Your spine will be next, and then your brain." As if in answer, Gail's spine arched back, and she tried to take in a breath and couldn't. Her entire back was aflame, and the lack of oxygen coupled with the pain in her back made her entire chest throb in agony.

"It isn't fatal, of course—the Burton bush prefers live victims. But its effects take hours to wear off. I have the antidote," Kurama said, reaching into his pocket. In her throes of screaming pain, Gail caught a glimpse of the small blue bottle and reached, but pain spiked her arm. That felt a bit like when the limb fell asleep and was waking up—but worse. She let it fall, and screamed again when her arm hit the floor. "If the location where Rika holds my comrade passes your lips, then the antidote will, as well," Kurama said, shaking the bottle in front of her face. "You have one minute." Gail opened her mouth and immediately shut it. The bacterium was working its way up her spine; next, it would get into her brain, and then she'd probably be unable to control herself. She pressed her lips together, and whimpering moans escaped from them as she squeezed her eyes shut. Kurama leaned in a bit closer, and she opened her mouth to answer.

The bottle was within reach. Gail opened her lips, shaking in the effort to speak. Kurama held his breath, thinking that he might have finally cracked this nut. Then, she took in a deep breath, and screamed, "HE'S _RAPING _HIM! RIKA'S RAPING YOUR FRIEND EVERY NIGHT!"

Kurama kicked Gail as hard as he could in the stomach. She coughed, and then screamed, her face turning purple with the effort. Kurama made sure that her eyes were following him, and then threw the antidote with every bit of energy in his body into the wall. The bottle smashed, glass flying everywhere, with a blue concoction dribbling down the wall to evaporate before Gail could even think of licking it up from there. She screamed as the toxin reached her brain, sending her entire mind into shock. Kurama turned, fists clenched so hard that blood dripped onto the floor as he exited. He slammed the cell door behind him, and then fell against it, blocking out Gail's screams behind him. He sunk to the floor, blatantly ignoring the ogre guard next to him. The guard had enough tact to know not to bother Kurama at this point in time. Kurama sat, head in his arms, and tried to stop the tears. His chest hitched as he inhaled, and his sobs were quiet, easily drowned out by the ruckus behind him.

_Fox. For hell's sake, get up._

Kurama raised his head, feeling Hiei's presence there immediately. The words were clear, even though the tone behind them seemed distant and hard to read. _Hiei?_

Who else? I've only been gone a few weeks and already you're falling apart.

Are you okay? What's he doing? Where are you?

You ask too many questions. You only need to know one thing. Kurama bit his lip, closing his eyes. Hiei was, perhaps, the only person that regularly verbally kicked his ass without some sort of reprimand. At this point, it was good just to hear that Hiei was cognitive. _I'm fighting—harder every day. Don't keep me waiting._

I'll try, Kurama promised. _On my life, I'll try._

Good. 

* * *

SIXTY-FOUR HOURS REMAINING

It was not hard for Kurama to get out of bed at his scheduled one in the morning, because he had not been asleep. He did not even need the ogre guard's wake-up call, though he received one anyway. The guard stood outside, waiting for Kurama, but he did not have to wait long. The fox was already dressed and only put on a pair of slippers before exiting his temporary room for the long blue halls of Spirit World. While Kurama had not been sleeping, he _was_ tired, and his mind wandered more than usual on the walk. It had been a long afternoon, and Hiei's message had made sleep almost impossible to think about, let alone attempt. He had, instead, lain in bed with all of his clothes on, looking at the ceiling and thinking. Usually, he tried to martial his thoughts into something productive, even when he was not planning—it kept his control sharp for when he did have to plan. This was an old habit, and one that he wouldn't have broken even if he had noticed it.

Tonight, however, he had let his mind go wherever it wanted as he tried to keep up. Tonight was a bad night for this. Hiei's face and voice were all that his mind seemed to care about lately, probably because—unlike most other nights—he absolutely could not talk to Hiei even if he wanted to. It was maddening to realize how much he had come to depend upon Hiei's presence, even for normal functioning. So, now, he and the ogre guard walked down the long stairs, and his anger from that afternoon had not abated much. The guard standing outside Gail's door was attentive, and even considered saluting at Kurama to show him this (Koenma had promised big benefits for the guards who performed well for this employee). The guard inside the cell, however, was slacking off, or otherwise too compassionate for the job. Kurama looked into the small window in the cell door and saw, to his great displeasure, that Gail was sleeping on the floor of her cell, body curled so as to conserve the little warmth she had.

"Where is the nearest water source?" Kurama asked the guard who had accompanied him down the stairs. The guard led him to the nearest bathroom, where there was a sink. Kurama looked in the bathroom cabinets of the small room and found a janitor's bucket. Pleased, he held it under the cold water, and then dragged the bucket back to Gail's cell.

Kurama went inside, pulled the bucket over to Gail's body, and dumped it all over her. In the chilly room, the cold water was even worse, and she jumped up with a screech. Kurama tossed the bucket aside, looking down at her. Gail reached to claw at him—scratch him, cut him, bleed him—and he knocked her hand aside easily, kicking her in the sternum. She rolled back, coughing and unable to take in a proper breath. Kurama turned to the guard and fixed him with a ruthless stare. "If you cannot do your job properly, someone else will do it in your stead," he said quietly, the ogre staring back at him expressionlessly (as these particular ogres were wont to do.) The ogre finally nodded, and Kurama kept his anger in check. "I said that she will not sleep. The next time I find her sleeping, someone will lose more than his job."

Without a backward glance, the fox exited to sobbing—whether it was the guard's or Gail's, he could not say.


	3. Chapter 3

One problem I faced several times over the length of this fic was the different tortures that Kurama could use. Our options were limited, and I didn't want to be boring with them (by using the same one over and over), but even research didn't help much. I had to improvise, but I think it worked itself out in the end.

**96 Hours**

**3. The Bets**

SIXTY-THREE HOURS REMAINING

It was as Kurama was entering his temporary room that he first felt the message trying to come through. He immediately shut himself down and stopped all thought processes. He reached into the abyss for something, some hint of Hiei's warm mind, and dipped his fingers there to try to grab hold of the thought. It took longer than he liked, but there it was. It was not warm, as he had been accustomed to. The thought was cold and sharp, miserable to experience yet impossible to ignore. He began to stumble toward his bed, Hiei's mind almost consuming his with just the first message.

_So dark . . . so much pain. I see no face other than his—though in my mind I sometimes see yours. _The bed not far now, already laid out on the floor for him and properly made. He stumbled to it carefully, hoping that he wouldn't fall before he got there. Hiei's messages had never been quite so clear before, and it was disorienting. _There's a feeling growing here where it never was before. I think it might be fear. Noises make me jump. The light burns my eyes when it is on. I_

He fell onto the bed, closing his eyes and extending his limbs. He went with a _plop_ and bounced slightly once before coming to a rest with his face buried deep in the pillow.

—_why tell you? Why not just keep it locked_

He took a deep breath and waited for the message to begin again. It seemed to fade in and out like a wave, and was harder to focus on when his own world was there. When he could feel the softness of the bed below him, and he was so tired . . .

_—shake and burrow deep into myself. I—wish? Pray? Yearn? No word seems strong enough—for death. I'm long past believing that I could escape or be rescued, despite what you say. He has taught me to abandon my hope. Without it, life is so much a passing time of pain._

And when has it ever been anything but, Hiei? His thoughts interfered with the message. They did not go through to Hiei, who was no longer receiving—for the moment he was only broadcasting. He could feel nothing.

_I never know what time it is. I sleep as much as possible for many reasons. Sleep brings dreams, but not for me. For me it brings silence and reprieve. I dream only of—of you. He realized it. He—no, can't, can't tell him that—I cannot say. It is not pleasant, and I'm sure you've figured it out on your_

Kurama closed his eyes tight, feeling tears working up behind them. He knew. He knew very well. Hiei was not using his telepathy properly; it was becoming hard for him to keep separate his thoughts and his message. Usually, he could think of something while simultaneously keeping in contact with the fox, but his mind was going.

_The fear—I have never felt it so strongly. Is this what you felt? Is it being human?_

Not human, Kurama thought. _Alive._

He's a fool. He comes at all hours, to hit me, scar me, or humiliate me. That last wouldn't be so bad, but it's the shame that burns deep. And the—the guilt. Hard to lie when our minds are connected. You know what I

Mean, Kurama finished. _I know what you mean._ Interrogation techniques varied from demon to demon, but torture for the sake of torture was always crueler in a different way. For a moment, his heart clenched and he felt as though he was going to be sick. He had never been a captive the way Hiei had, but he had heard enough of this to last forever.

_You say you are searching. It is hard to believe in this place, with this pain. I am_

Too young and inexperienced, too hurt, too abandoned, and too innocent to deserve this, Kurama thought, clenching his fists so hard that blood began to come from the cuts he made with his own fingernails. _I'd trade places with you if I could. I'd never let you go through this—especially not alone and frightened._

—waiting for a death that I know will be long in coming, if it ever comes at all.

No, Kurama thought. _Don't. He_ wants _you this way. He wants you submissive and hopeless; the better to ruin you with, my dear._

Is this immortality?

Blood dripping onto the sheets, tears falling even faster, his muscles cramping up as he tensed and felt what Hiei felt for a minute. A dimension away, a smaller, weaker body lay on cold stone, bruised and battered, quiet and alone.

_Have I found a way to live forever?_

I'll find you, Kurama promised, the words sounding false and hollow in his own mind. He could only imagine what they might have sounded like to the proud fire demon, who had never trusted Kurama's sweet words as anything more than folly. The bittersweet memories of laughing with him, the distance between them too far for more than friendship and too close for less than love.

_There's nowhere to go. The present is this prison. The past is foggy—all I can remember is_

The tournament, the day you thought I was dead, the day I thought you _were dead, the day we both thought Kuwabara and Yusuke were dead—_

your face and the smell of Yukina. I miss it

Her smile, the healing touch of her hands, the sparkle of her tear gems on the floor. I remember well when she stopped you from killing Tarukane. You don't remember that, do you?

so much that my chest heaves. But the future is the worst. To know that this could—probably will—_go on for one thousand more years_

One million, Kurama corrected, glad the thought could not reach the fire demon. _The life of a koorime is long to the point of seeming endless._ He grasped the sheet in both hands, twisting the fabric around his fingers and bringing his legs up to his chest. Emotions fell over him, and they almost didn't make sense in context. They were Hiei's present, a little gift sent through the dimensions via a tentative telepathic connection that could break at any second.

_and to know I will only ever see his face again. Never yours, never again. That is worse than any physical torture he could ever inflict. _

"Hold on," Kurama said quietly, rolling onto his back, and looking into the ceiling. He kept the sheet in his grip, stationing him to the real world, to sanity, and to something other than Hiei's fate. The tears had dried, and his eyes retained the cold look they'd had since Hiei had gone missing on that warm day. "I swear on the life of my mother, I will rescue you. You will come back alive." _Though whole . . . I cannot say. You are already broken._

I think he knows it.

* * *

FIFTY-ONE HOURS REMAINING

Though she had not yet been in captivity for two days, Gail was looking sick by the time he visited her that afternoon. She had paled visibly, and her hair was lank and greasy. She shook in the cold, but he hadn't the heart to warm her up—not after Hiei's message the previous night. Instead, Kurama paced relentlessly outside her room, biting the inside of his cheek. He could not think of what to use as leverage. He didn't want her to know that he'd heard from Hiei, or that the message had cost him a night's worth of sleep, but he could hardly stop himself from running into the room and strangling her. Hiei's message had, at first, caused him inexplicable pain, but after losing all that precious sleep, he'd only grown agitated. The ogres could tell in the way he walked, and they made sure to pretend to ignore it.

Finally, Kurama stepped into the room. Gail watched him approach with smug eyes, and something told him that she knew exactly what he wanted to keep a secret, even though there was no way for her to know. His heart leapt into his throat, and he swallowed it, a vein dancing in his forehead. Gail saw this and realized that Kurama was fuming. "You seem angry," she stated, smiling. He glared at her, but it was not enough to make her flinch. "Upset about your friend? I would be, too. Rika's relentless. If your friend were a female, he'd be pregnant with octuplets right about now."

Kurama gritted his teeth, setting his jaw and exhaling through his nose. He knew it was a ruse to anger him. He knew that Hiei could hold out a little longer. And neither of those thoughts consoled him the slightest bit—in fact, they only exacerbated his rage. He searched desperately, and came up with one option. It was distasteful, it was barbaric, and it was probably just the right thing to do under those circumstances. Kurama pulled the spare chair over, but didn't sit in it. Instead, he leaned against the back of it, body at an angle. Gail watched him, obviously amused and not fooled by his supposed nonchalance. "Rika's torturing Hiei for his own amusement," Kurama said. "But what if he wanted to get information from his captive?"

Gail, surprised at the topic, waved off his question. "He'd use the same techniques. Rika may be a sadist, but he isn't stupid. With the threat of rape hanging over his or her head, everyone talks."

Kurama's eyes flashed in triumph, and Gail realized her mistake too late. Despite her rampant thirst, her mouth was suddenly dry, and her body shook—this time, it wasn't from the cold. Moving his eyes to his own hands, Kurama lowered them to the zipper on his pants and unzipped it, revealing a small triangle of boxer shorts beneath. Gail's eyes went wide, and she was unable to remove them from that mocking, foreboding triangle. "Please," Gail whispered, not meeting his eyes. He stared at her, gaze colder than the room. If she had seen it, she would have wet herself in fear, thirst or no thirst. "Please, don't."

"'Everyone talks,'" he mimicked, watching her eyes and praying that she didn't realize how little the idea of raping her excited him.

Gail was silent for a long moment. Then, she jutted her jaw out and met his gaze. He felt his power slipping from him. "Do what you want," she said, eyes not betraying her fear, though he felt it still. "You'll get nothing out of me."

Kurama looked at her for a long moment. He thought about Hiei's urgent message, and the way Gail would feel, writhing and screaming beneath him, as well as all she had done to put Hiei in his predicament. There was nothing on this planet that could possibly make him want to sexually assault her, for torturing purposes or otherwise. At least, not yet. With that dismal thought in mind, Kurama zipped his fly, went to the door, and slammed it on his way out. He practically stumbled into his room, fell on the bed without changing, and slept for fourteen hours. He did not dream.

* * *

THIRTY-SEVEN HOURS REMAINING

The ogre shook Kurama's shoulder rather hard, and the fox snapped awake. His energy flared, but when he saw that it was just one of Koenma's goons, he relaxed. He searched for a clock in the darkness and saw that it was four in the morning. Perfect. The ogre waited for him to change clothes—what he really needed was a shower—and then met him out in the hall, escorting him to the upper prison. The lights were on in Spirit World's offices, but they were bleak and made everything seem dismal. He trudged behind the ogre, feeling well rested but still a bit groggy. This predicament had absolutely ruined his sleep patterns, but it was hard to worry about that when Hiei was suffering so much for so little. They reached the jail in no time, and Kurama found Gail nearly asleep on her chair. He spared the guard in the room with them a nasty glare before lightly slapping her on the cheek. Gail flailed, just managing to avoid tipping over her chair. She hated him, he realized, as she sat up straight and met his gaze. She truly did, and that hatred was a barrier between him and Hiei. Somehow, he would have to break it down. Turning, he found his oft-used chair and sat in it, keeping a space of a few feet between them.

"Sorry to wake you up so early," he said, sounding a tiny bit apologetic. Gail merely stared at him expressionlessly. Her eyes were heavy, and there were large shadows under them. Her skin looked sickly and weak. This did not make him feel any better; instead, he seemed to imagine that she was a certain friend of his, and found it all the harder to face her. "I have a proposition for you." Gail raised one eyebrow slowly, but did not speak. Perhaps she was inviting him to go ahead, or perhaps she couldn't care less, but either way he thought that he would have to play this strategy carefully. He had rejected it at first due to time constraints, but now desperation was changing his mind.

"Consider. If you tell me where Rika lives, we will go there. When we storm his house, we will not harm Rika or charge him with any crimes. We'll simply take back our comrade and leave, without ruining his estate or person in any way." He said this with utmost conviction, and most people would have believed this statement. He was starting to lull himself into believing it just so that he could bargain with Gail. She looked him over for a long time before speaking.

"Bull. You'll kill Rika for the hell of it."

Kurama blanched, straightening up and keeping eye contact with her without widening his eyes or allowing himself to move his hands. They seemed to want to fiddle with his clothes, which was a nervous tic that he had gotten rid of (or so he'd thought) years ago. "No, we won't. Spirit World does not do business that way. I'll arrange for his good health if you tell me where he is."

"Spirit World didn't _use_ to keep prisoners," she said bitterly. Kurama opened his mouth to retort, and then thought better of it. He was supposed to be gaining ground here, not losing it. Realizing that she still had the upper hand in this interrogation, he grimaced.

"We do what is necessary. Rika will not be strong enough to fight against me and my comrades; we'll restrain him, without harming him, long enough to remove his captive and be on our way."

"Rika can kill all of you in mere seconds," she hissed, clenching her fists. The veins and muscles in her bare arms and legs stood out visibly in the cold light.

"What makes you say that?" Kurama asked, glad that his comments had given her something to seethe about. While her detached hatred was evident, Kurama only gained the advantage once she let her emotions get out of control. That was exactly what he'd been aiming for.

"He kidnapped a member of your team with ease," Gail said, smirking, though he could feel the force that she had to use to do so.

"He captured my comrade by sneaking up on him while he was injured," Kurama replied coolly. "He committed the act in cowardice and confusion. That does not make him stronger than his captive."

"Then tell me why your captive hasn't escaped yet," Gail grinned, her lips stretching to convey her hatred of him. Kurama felt a pang of anger, but tried to back away from it. This was not the time; he had to remain calm and distant. _Think of Hiei as a treasure_, he thought miserably. _A treasure that you need to steal._ This grated hard on his human conscience, but it made keeping his anger in check a bit easier.

His silence made Gail laugh aloud. "You don't know, do you? I'm not saying another word." Internally cursing, Kurama stood, realizing that he wasn't going to get anything else out of her this night. She knew when had reached her limit; the line between teasing him and betraying trust was thinner every day. Kurama approached the guard and asked quietly if the guard had a knife or dirk on him. The guard did.

Taking the dagger in hand, Kurama approached Gail. She sat very still, knowing that her restraints would keep her from taking the weapon from him. Kurama held the knife in his hand, knuckles white from the pressure he was putting on it. He went to stand behind her, held the knife to her neck, and sliced through a large chunk of her hair. The locks fell to the floor, spreading out in a discarded fashion. Gripping a handful, Kurama pulled the knife through, working it back and forth to cut the hair. It came off in unequal, choppy chunks and fell onto Gail's shoulders and the ground. When he'd sufficiently left her with only an inch of messy hair, he walked away, gave the knife back to the guard, who remained speechless, and headed for the door. Just before the ogre let him out, Kurama looked back at her. She was staring at him with intensity to match Hiei's glares. Kurama bowed to her, and then exited. Through the door, he heard her let out a frustrated scream. Kurama trudged up the stairs, down the long halls, and fell into bed without a thought.

* * *

THIRTY HOURS REMAINING

After breakfast the next morning, Kurama reflected on how much better he felt. His stomach was full; he had showered, had hopefully accomplished a little something during that night's mad events, and was better rested than he had been in the last few days. Hiei's messages were comforting, as well; they were scathing and arrogant, but mostly coherent and showed no sign of weakening. Sun lit the halls through large windows as he strolled to the dungeon. He wasn't quite sure how Yusuke and Kuwabara were, or what they were doing, as he hadn't spoken to Koenma in a day or so. However, he thought that he was getting closer to Gail, and he thought that it wouldn't take much longer to pry the location of Hiei's prison from her lips. With luck. The guards who faced him in the main jail room looked at him with cool disgust, which he ignored. They were soft, and used to treating prisoners like infamous guests. They did not understand the desperation of this scenario, and they certainly didn't know—or care for—Hiei. In silence, they let him go into Gail's room.

Her attitude had not changed much in the hours that he had been gone, though his optimism and content made her seem less like a skeleton today. She was thinning, and drying up from the lack of food and water. Her hair was in a shambles, though he saw that someone had swept up the remains of it. He was annoyed at this, but said nothing about it. Let the guards have their little pleasures. Kurama sat in his chair and looked at Gail, rubbing his chin with one hand. He considered using his rose whip this morning, but was worried that he might go overboard and kill her. It wouldn't be hard to do, since the whip was a lethal weapon on the best of days. If he removed a limb or gutted her, it wouldn't prove well for Hiei. After a minute of silence, Kurama went to the guard and asked for his knife again.

Holding it in his right hand, Kurama looked at the instrument. It was not the same one he'd cut her hair with earlier that day, as this was not the same guard, but it was nearly identical to that one. It had a long handle and a short, squat blade. It was probably only to be used in extreme circumstances; this one was pristine, completely untouched by blood. He held the knife loosely, then turned and sat down in his chair again. Gail kept her eyes on the blade, her slightly raised eyebrows betraying her fear.

"Where is Rika's hideout?" Kurama asked quietly. Gail pressed her lips together, staying silent. As quickly as he could, almost to match Hiei's speed, Kurama struck with the blade. She gasped, hunching her shoulders and moving her hands to cover the gash. Kurama kept his expression cold as he held the knife in view of both of them.

"Where does Rika keep his prisoners?" he asked, and gave Gail fifteen seconds of silence before striking again. She shrieked, trying to move away, but he slid his chair forward, the knife dripping blood onto the ground.

"Where is my comrade?" he asked, waiting. Ten seconds this time, and the blood sprayed. She was rising from the chair, attempting to run even though she could not get far, but he held her fast.

"Where does Rika live?" Silence; blood sprayed over the both of them. Gail gasped, closing her eyes tightly.

"Where is Rika now?" Silence; the blood; a scream. Gail scooted her chair back, almost tipping over, but Kurama—his face betraying nothing—reached forward, steadied her, and continued the interrogation.

"Where is he?" Silence; the blood; the scream. Both of Kurama's hands were coated in it, as well as his chest, legs, and face.

"Where is he?" More blood; even more screaming this time.

"Where is he?" Her voice cracked as her screaming reached new heights.

"Where is he?"

_"Where is he?"_

Kurama closed the door to the cell behind him, eyes closed. With a steady gait, he exited the jail, climbed the stairs, and began walking down the hall. People passed him, staring, but he did not notice them. His face was the picture of content, of solace; though he had not learned the location of his best friend just yet, he felt he was a good deal closer to him than he had been in days. His spirits soaring, Kurama went to his temporary lodging and found the phone there. Most of the time, Spirit World prohibited calls to human world, but Koenma had made an exception for him. He picked up the receiver, cradled it against his ear with his shoulder, and began to dial. The beeps he heard corresponded with the buttons that he pressed. After a few seconds of quiet, the phone began to ring. It rang two and a half times, and then he heard one of the two voices that he had been longing to hear.

"Hello?"

"Hello, mother," he said softly, holding the phone with a bloody hand. "How are you?" As their conversation continued, the blood dripped from his wrist onto the floor, making a small puddle, his smile reflected in it.


	4. Chapter 4

I'd be lying if I said Balm of Gilead by Blossomwitch (on this site) had no influence on me and this story. It was very slight, but it's there. This time, it's Hiei who was kidnapped and assaulted, and the plot is totally different, but her writing is very strong, and it had a great effect on me. Read that story, and everything else by her! She's a great writer! Sorry for the delay; I had to edit quite a bit out before I could post this due to the rating restrictions.

**96 Hours**

**4. The Rolling of Dice**

SEVENTEEN HOURS REMAINING

He was running. His feet flew over the ground, taking great bounds and leaps to get ahead; he chose his footing carefully, looking ahead and planning his steps to avoid the underbrush that would trip him if it got the chance. He flew, arms pumping, legs swinging in momentum, and willed himself not to panic. It was not too late. That scream, the call for help . . . yes, it had sounded like Hiei, and it had come in the direction that they'd left him in. But Hiei was competent, even with a broken ankle. Hiei was strong. Hiei was armed. There was nothing that could threaten him, nothing that would bother him while he laid waiting for his team to return with the suspect they'd been chasing.

Kurama looked ahead. There was darkness on all sides, the trees blocking out the sunlight. Then, up ahead, a glimmer of light shone through. _Almost there,_ he thought, moving faster. He knew how this would end: he'd burst out of the trees, see Hiei lying against the rock where they'd left him, and feel like the total asshole he was being. _"Don't think I can stay on my own for five minutes? Don't you have any faith in me?"_

I'm dreaming, Kurama realized, his conscious mind making an effort to but in on the dream before it progressed. This was one he'd had with frightening regularity over the past three weeks; running through that godforsaken forest, bursting through the trees into the light, finding Hiei gone. Just like it had happened on that day those weeks ago. Nothing there but the discarded sword, and Kurama's heart would plunge into a place that felt like ice-cold water, and he'd be unable to breathe, and he'd wake and resolve to tear Rika's body apart with his bare hands if—_when_—he got the chance. It played the same way yet again, despite his conscious boredom with the dream. He ran through the forest, he burst between two trees, temporarily blinded by the Makai sun. He looked to the rock, half of him (the dreaming half) fearful, the other half (the waking half) jaded. _He'll be gone, _Kurama thought in his dream. _He'll be missing all over again, and it will be my fault._

Only this time, Hiei was not gone. Hiei was still lying there by the rocks. And this time, Hiei was dead.

Kurama snapped awake, all thoughts of the dream pushed out of his mind by the feeble, weak message that had just come through._ K-ku . . . kurama?_

Yes, Kurama thought instantly. _Yes, I'm here. What's wrong? Are you dying?_

I w-wish . . . came the reply.

_You wish what? _Kurama asked, opening his eyes to the darkness around him. The clock on the nearby table let him know that it was just after midnight. The witching hour.

_I wish I was . . . dying._ Immediately following this came a flash of pain, something so real and harsh that Kurama cried out, feeling it stab into his spine and travel both ways through his body. A little sample of whatever Hiei was feeling at that very moment.

_Gods, _Kurama thought desperately._ I'm so close._

There are . . . n-no gods, Hiei sent, with a wave of exhaustion. _Only a child and his father playing p-pretend. _

It occurred to Kurama that Hiei was sending his physical torture as a way of cooping with it. Whatever was happening to him was too horrible for him to handle, so he was boxing it up and fed-exing it to his redheaded friend. _Whatever I can bear_, Kurama thought, squeezing his eyes shut. _Send it all over; it will never be enough._

Stop, Hiei sent, his thoughts both fatigued and exasperated. _You fool. This isn't ab-about . . . you._

I know, Kurama thought miserably. _I know, I know, I can't help it. What's happening? Can you hold out? I'm coming. Soon, I swear it._

Y-you know I never cared . . . for promises. My life for you.

You're so weak, Kurama marveled, tears beginning to well up behind his eyelids. He swallowed the lump in his throat, taking the bed sheets into his hands again to squeeze them for the little comfort they could offer. _How long can you go on? When will you finally break?_

Don't insult me, Hiei sent, a touch of anger hiding under the words._ I can bear this as long as I have to._

Kurama heard the strength returning to his friend's mind. Another stab of pain bore through him, and he thought he knew the source of it. _He will pay_, Kurama said, disregarding Hiei's dislike for promises. _For touching you, he dies._

You always had . . . a jealous streak. If I don't m-make it . . .

Don't, Kurama pleaded, his breath hitching in his chest._ Don't say that._

Tell Yukina. Swear, you damn fool.

I swear, Kurama thought, tears rushing from his tightly closed eyes._ I swear I will._

Idiot, Hiei sent, growing fainter._ You know I . . . never believed your promises. _

And then he was gone. Kurama sent back messages for five minutes, trying to come into contact with Hiei, who was clearly suffering at the hands of Rika at that very moment. When he couldn't get through, Kurama screamed into his pillow. Then, making up his mind, he jumped out of bed, threw open the door, and began to run down the darkened hall. He ran as he had all those weeks ago, through the forest. He ran as he had in his dreams every night since, praying that what he saw at the end of the run wouldn't be what it always was.

He burst through the door, took the stairs down three at a time in great, leaping bounds, and nearly slammed into the wall as the path forked. He jogged down to Gail's cell door, yelling for the guards to open it before he even got to them. They did, and he did not stop to chat but instead flew through the open door, bursting in. Gail had been in the act of meditation, and the guard had been standing in the corner, making sure she didn't fall asleep. Both jumped when Kurama came into the room, and both watched him warily. "Tell me where they are," Kurama demanded, breathing heavily. He did not try to banish his anger. Instead, he let her hear the full brunt of his fury; let her know the agony she would face if she didn't answer him.

"Never Neverland," Gail smiled. The rose whip snapped. Kurama stood, panting, holding its handle in a shaking hand. He swung again, causing her chair to tip. She fell out of it and rolled away, trying to escape him. But she was imprisoned in this tiny room, as a fire demon somewhere else was imprisoned in one so like it, and she couldn't get away. Gail could only writhe as Kurama's whip flashed over her body again, and again, and again.

* * *

FOURTEEN HOURS REMAINING

Kurama slumped against the wall, leaving a handprint there. His forehead squished against the tile. It was cool, and he felt somewhat relieved to have a moment of silence. There was a dripping noise accompanying the whimpers behind him, but he ignored them both for the cold press of the wall on his forehead and hands. Blood caked his clothes; drying now, the stink made him feel lightheaded. Or perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or the abundance of physical exercise that made me feel faint. Either way, he needed a moment of rest. He took that small moment to run a quick inventory on himself. Sore feet, check. Abdomen pleading for sustenance, check. Heart pumping hard in his ribcage, check. Arms and hands throbbing in agony, check. Throat on fire from screaming, check. Jaw aching from having been clenched all this time, check. Eyes tired from having seen far too much, check. A mind that was not quite all there—double check. He breathed in deeply through his mouth, not having the strength to face the stench that his nose picked up.

He had no way of knowing what time it was, but his body seemed to believe that it was still late at night—or, rather, early in the morning. He realized that he was starting to fade off to sleep while still standing and shook himself awake. Merely standing upright caused the muscles in his arms to buckle, making him drop the rose whip. It fell to the ground a red rose. Kurama closed his eyes, swaying slightly on his feet. The guard came over, steadying him, offering to escort him upstairs. Kurama shook his head, either unwilling or unable to speak. He walked—shakily—to Gail, who was still on the ground. She was a mess, the chair she had moved out of thrown to the side of the room. Only her demonic constitution had kept her living this long.

"Bring a medic," Kurama croaked, not surprised by the roughness of his voice. He briefly recalled (in flashes of red and bright lights and cold air and loud screams) the blur of the past few hours. He remembered screaming something over and over, as he swung his whip, sometimes so crazily that he hadn't even hit his target. He remembered screaming in agony and in desperation, but it was a while before he remembered _what_ he'd been screaming: _Where is he? Where is he? WHERE IS HE?_

The guard went to the door and let the one on the other side know the message about the medic. Kurama waited quietly, watching Gail's form as he tried to stay awake. He did not try to remember the hours of interrogation. He did not want to remember. And yet, it was still coming back in incoherent flashes of pain and fear. The medic was a harried looking demon with wispy white hair and pale, wrinkled skin. He took one look in the room and claimed that his entire team would need to be woken and brought down at once. Kurama, though he wished to keep this secret, did not protest. If he didn't act quickly, they would lose Gail, and it would have been for nothing. _Worse_, Kurama thought as the medic went to his victim, _Hiei would be lost forever_. Grimacing, Kurama stepped closer to the crouching medic. "What can you do for her?"

The medic looked back up and a stab of fear crossed his eyes. Looking away from Kurama, he said, "I should be able to save her. She'll need close watching for several days, but the damage isn't irreparable." Looking down at his kit, the doctor mumbled, "You'll need to be looked at, as well."

Not long after, a team of younger, fearful medics arrived. They put Gail on a gurney, face down, and were preparing to wheel her out when Kurama reached out for the shoulder of a passing medic. The boy shied away and then faced him, looking apologetic. "Sir?"

"She's a Spirit World prisoner and fugitive," Kurama said. "She must be restrained and watched at all times."

The medic silently pointed to the cuffs that linked Gail's shackles with the legs of the gurney, then turned and continued wheeling it out of the room. Kurama watched, apathetic. A younger female medic approached him, holding a small bottle. "Here," she said, handing it to him. He took it, swirling the contents around in the clear container.

"What is this?"

"It's a tonic to help you sleep," she soothed, pulling him over to the remaining chair. "You'll wake up in about six hours, feeling much better."

"That's unacceptable," Kurama said immediately, holding the concoction away from him so that she couldn't try to force it down his throat. "My time is precious. Have me woken up in three hours, and no more." The medic looked at him sternly for a moment, but his gaze broke her down. Frowning, she promised that someone would wake him up in three hours, though he wouldn't reap all the benefits of the tonic. Kurama sighed, held up the glass, and drained it. Instantly, he felt his mind cloud over, and warm sleep embraced him.

* * *

ELEVEN HOURS REMAINING

When he was shaken awake, it took several minutes for Kurama to remember where he was, partially because he wasn't _sure_ where he was. The room looked familiar, but it took him a bit to realize that he was in one of the jail cells in Spirit World. It was probably not Gail's, as it was clean, but he felt a pang of fear all the same. What the hell had happened? Had Koenma had him locked up for being too rough with Gail? Sitting up, then instantly regretting it, Kurama saw the ogre standing over him and looked around the room. His head was throbbing, but through the pain, he saw a normal prison cell. He was laying on a comfortable gurney, and it wasn't until he saw that the cell door was propped open that he allowed himself to lie back down. "Why am I here?" he asked, lips cracked.

The ogre frowned a bit. "The medics thought you'd rather stay near the prisoner than go back up to your room." Kurama nodded, looking up at the ceiling. The smell of blood was gone, and he realized that he'd been cleaned and re-dressed in a white outfit, presumably one reserved for Spirit World patients. He felt better than he previously had, though his head hurt and there was still a small twinge of pain in his right bicep. He sat up, swung his legs over the edge of the gurney, and prepared to stand. It wasn't as hard as he'd imagined, though he did feel woozy enough to sit back down.

"Where is the prisoner?" he asked, suddenly sure that Gail had escaped or died while he'd been sleeping.

The ogre stared at him, looking slightly alarmed. "She's next door, bandaged. The medics did a good job on her."

Kurama nodded, standing up again. It was easier the second time. "The time?"

"Six in the morning," the ogre responded numbly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Kurama said brusquely, heading for the door. He exited, looked around, and noticed the guard standing by the door that Gail had been behind previously. He went inside, taking a good look around the room. It had been cleaned, and Gail's chair had been replaced with a metal one. She was shackled wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle, but still free to move from the chair if she chose. She was naked, as he had ordered, but most of her was covered in gauze and bandages. She looked at him flatly as he entered and sat down across from her.

"Are you ready to reveal the location of Rika's hideout to me?" he asked, voice weak from overuse.

Gail stared at him for so long that he was sure she'd never answer. Finally, she said, "Never." Her voice was even weaker than his was, but she spoke with conviction. Kurama sighed, and then stood up.

"You know what they say about absolutes. Our time grows short, and that can only mean more things that are unpleasant for you. You must realize that you'll tell me eventually. Why not make it easier?"

"I'll never say it," she said. "And you'll never see your friend again."

Kurama looked at her, examining her face for several minutes. Finally, he told the guard that he wanted one gallon of clean water brought in. In silence, they waited for the guard to collect it. When he returned, he had brought the water, along with a cup to drink it out of. Kurama poured some for Gail, and though she should have known better, she was too thirsty to suspect a trap. This time, anyway, she was lucky. She drank half the gallon before throwing up, drinking the rest, and passing out. Kurama left her, knowing that Koenma would be waiting to speak with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Finished: January 2010

I wrestled with the ending a bit, but I think I found something I was happy with in the end. It was a lot of fun to write, at any rate. I hope you enjoyed reading, and I'll see you again soon!

**96 Hours**

**5. The Outcome**

TEN HOURS REMAINING

Koenma insisted that Kurama wait outside his office until he was ready to receive the fox. Kurama had the distinct impression that Koenma wanted him to panic, to feel guilty for his actions, but it only angered him further that he was being treated like a child. He leaned against the wall, folding his arms, feeling the scratch of the white outfit he'd been forced to wear on his body and wincing against the throb in his head. Demons passed, some ignoring him and some staring blankly at him, but he did not care. He realized that when this business was over, he would likely not be welcome back into Spirit World until the day he died, and perhaps not even then.

Kurama's precious time was being wasted, and he was seconds away from leaving Koenma to his own devices when the elderly medic who had helped Gail exited, giving Kurama a quick and shifty glance before he skittered away. Kurama watched him, eyes narrowed, before stepping into Koenma's office. It was not in disarray as it usually was. The office was neat and solemn, probably on purpose. Koenma liked to create an atmosphere, and he was clearly furious with Kurama. He was sitting on a booster chair, his hands folded in front of him, glaring at Kurama very intently. The fox merely stood in his itchy hospital attire, waiting to be told that he was no longer allowed to visit the prisoner. Waiting to be told that, because of him, Hiei was sentenced to an eternity (or near enough so as not to matter) of suffering.

"Well?" Koenma said, slamming his hands down on his desk. Kurama inhaled sharply, unaccustomed to being spoken to like a bad dog. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I lost control," he said lamely. "It won't happen again."

Koenma looked at him for a long moment. "You lost control," he repeated slowly. Kurama nodded. "Kurama, you could have killed her. In fact, you almost did, and I don't need to remind you of what happens if she dies."

Kurama watched Koenma coolly, betraying nothing. Of course he knew what would happen if they lost Gail, and he didn't need to be reminded by someone who considered Hiei more of an asset than a friend. Koenma sighed slowly, leaning back in his chair. "It's clear to me that you know things about Hiei that none of the rest of us know. I'm going to let your interrogation of Gail continue, on the condition that you tell me what you know about Hiei's current state and how you know it."

Kurama felt a wave of relief; he could handle giving Koenma the foul details if it meant that he could return to Gail immediately afterward. "Very well. Hiei and I have a strong telepathic connection; the bond is deep enough that it takes minimal effort to send messages. It actually takes more effort to keep our thoughts separate. Hiei has been sending me messages ever since he was kidnapped."

"How is it that you have such a strong bond with Hiei?" Koenma asked, eyeing Kurama carefully. The fox shrugged.

"From years of working closely together," he lied. Koenma, however, seemed to believe him.

"And what have Hiei's messages said?"

"Nothing relevant," Kurama assured him immediately. "He was unable to tell me where he is. They provided me with proof that he's alive, and with some details about the torture he has been undergoing during his captivity."

"Torture?" Koenma asked, swallowing a lump that had grown in his throat.

Kurama nodded coldly, surprised that Koenma hadn't already figure that out. "Yes. I received another message—this one slightly incoherent—at midnight last night, which prompted my loss of self-control. I repeat, that will not happen again," Kurama said, and though he didn't know it, he was lying that time, too.

Koenma sat still for several moments, first watching Kurama, and then looking at his desk. "All right," he said, letting his hands fall to his sides. "But try not to let it happen again." Kurama nodded his thanks and headed for the door, intent on meeting with Gail again. Before he could leave, though, Koenma called out to him again. "Kurama? How much of this interrogation has been about finding him, and how much of it has been about revenge?"

Kurama looked back at the tiny ruler with a steely glare. "It is all for Hiei." But truthfully, he wasn't so sure.

* * *

NINE HOURS REMAINING

Because of the lack of time and equipment, Kurama had had to be very creative with his torturing methods throughout the few days that Gail had been his captive. He took the hour between his meeting with Koenma and his return to her to think up a few more alternative plans, which was what he was good at. He sat in silence, thinking, brooding, and generally scheming. He felt at peace whenever he had time to do this, and in his meditative state, he realized how desperate things were. He only had nine hours left to coax Gail into telling him where Hiei was. It was going to be close. So, armed with his determination and a plan of action, Kurama once again made his descent into the Spirit World prisons. Before this awful business had started, he had been to the cells just once. The irony of the parallels between that day and this new one did not surprise him in the least. At this moment, he was heading down the stairs so that he could free Hiei. All those years ago, he had been doing exactly the same thing—but in a more direct matter.

He remembered getting the key from Koenma, a task that had been nearly impossible to begin with. It had taken smooth talking, lots of promises, and excessive explanation (not to mention flattery) for Koenma to consider letting Hiei go (even if he was on probation.) Kurama had followed an ogre escort to the prison area with the key warming in his hand, his mind confused on all but one point: he wanted Hiei to be free. He had come up with lots of excuses for himself over the years, and worn them like a shield. _I knew we'd need him for the upcoming trouble. I felt guilty for involving him in my problems. I felt guilty for abandoning his cause once I'd gotten what I'd wanted. I knew how much he suffered down there in the dark._ None of these were wholly true, though some of them did echo a sort of honesty. And as he walked now, taking the stairs slowly, he realized that the only answer that had been true was the one he'd given Hiei at the start. _Because I want to. _

Kurama smiled wryly to himself. Odd, how selfish motivations could have helped Hiei—and not just that one time, but constantly over the course of their friendship. It was sheer luck that what Kurama wanted was good for the both of them. Or was it? Perhaps his answer to Hiei had been honest, but it also lacked an explanation. Setting himself, Kurama decided to tell Hiei _all_ of it . . . if he ever saw him again. Kurama reached the bottom of the steps, paused, and walked to the door of Gail's cell. He looked in, saw the ogre that was on duty, and counted himself lucky. He could have had worse company for a plan like this. Taking a deep breath, he walked in. He stood between the guard and Gail, both of whom watched him with hollow eyes. _She's close,_ Kurama thought. _She is so very close._

"How are you?" Kurama asked, and she didn't answer. She seemed almost incapable; the hollow cheeks in her face sucked in a bit more, but she didn't open her mouth. He turned to the guard.

"You know why this demon is being held captive?"

The guard, surprised at being directly addressed, straightened up and took on a stoic expression. "She is being questioned for the whereabouts of a Spirit World employee."

Kurama nodded, looking the guard over. He was fit enough, and looked to be strong. Kurama thought he would work perfectly. "Correct. The employee being held captive is Hiei, master of the Dragon of the Darkness Flame. And he is suffering worse tortures than she could even dream of."

Gail made a small whining noise, as if she wanted to argue, but she said nothing. The ogre suddenly seemed very uncomfortable. "As a Spirit World employee, you should feel empathy with your co-worker," Kurama said, watching the ogre for signs of weakness. The ogre nodded, not catching the fox's eye. "Come," Kurama said, leading the ogre to stand in front of Gail. He came reluctantly, trying to avoid looking into her eyes. "Your name?"

"Atsui," he said softly, looking at his feet. Kurama nodded.

"Help me with the interrogation," he said softly. "Help me find our friend, Atsui."

The ogre with mauve skin and startling gray eyes met Kurama's gaze. "What would you ask of me?"

"Strike her," Kurama said, turning his eyes onto Gail's pale face. "Strike her until she tells us where he is." There was an electric, tense second where Kurama was sure that Atsui would refuse. He could sense that the ogre was a good person; that he did not want to cause pain for anyone. But he could also sense Gail's fear, and this made him stare at Atsui until the ogre nodded. He slapped Gail gently, causing her head to rock back. He held his hand to his chest, looking apprehensively at Kurama's face. "Where is Rika?" Kurama asked, eyes only for Gail's cold, emaciated face. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through her nose.

"Again," Kurama said, his voice just higher than a whisper. Atsui followed through. "The location," Kurama asked. Gail said nothing. The redhead nodded at Atsui, who, grimacing, struck Gail again. He was strong, even without his heart in the abuse.

"Tired yet?" Kurama asked, almost amused. Atsui shook his head, looking at Gail with something like disgusted misery. Kurama told him to strike again, and again, punctuating each _slap_ with a quick question about the whereabouts of Rika and or Hiei. It was not long before she fell out of her chair and tried to move away from them, crawling at first as she was too weak to walk. When this had continued for half an hour, Gail had had both eyes blackened and had lost a tooth. She answered Kurama's questions with moans and grunts, never with actual words.

After a while, Kurama went to her and bent over her shuddering form. He told Gail to stand.

"I can't," she moaned, trying to put her weight on her feet. They buckled and she fell, moaning in pain. Kurama bent, pulling her short hair, and she came to her knees easily enough. He nodded at Atsui.

"Where are they?" Kurama demanded, as Gail began to crawl away again. Atsui followed dutifully. Scrambling, Gail stood and tried to run away. Kurama continued with his questions, signifying to Atsui that he would also have to keep following instructions. As Kurama watched Gail slam into a wall, he thought that the real interrogation had finally begun.

* * *

SIX HOURS REMAINING

"Where is Rika's hideout?" Kurama snapped.

Atsui scowled, slapping Gail's upper arm on a vicious wound. "Tell him, and it will be over," Atsui insisted, in the desperate, pleading tone that he'd adapted an hour or so before. He was beginning to grasp the strategy that Kurama was employing, but the fact that it made him a mere tool was not improving his mood.

"Where has Rika taken his hostage?" When Gail didn't answer, Atsui roared in frustration and kicked her legs out from under her, sending her sprawling.

"Tell him, so that he'll let us go!" Atsui shouted, following her. Kurama watched, slightly amused, from the far wall as Atsui kicked Gail of his own accord.

"Where are they?" he called over the sounds of her shrieks, and the grunts that Atsui made as he caused her so much harm. Kurama reflected that being cooped up in a room with a lifeless, evil prisoner and an eviler superior would take such a toll on anyone. Then again, Atsui was proving to be extremely useful at his job.

"Where is Rika?" Kurama asked, as Atsui bent and began slapping Gail again.

"TELL HIM!" Atsui screamed, punching her directly in an old wound. Gail screamed her loudest yet, causing Atsui to clap his hands over his ears. Sobbing, she covered her face in her hands and mumbled something.

Kurama was about to ask another question when Atsui bent over her, listening hard. "What?" he whispered, holding his ear close to Gail's face. Kurama moved forward to stop him from allowing Gail to attack him when the ogre looked up, an expression of fear and anticipation on his face.

"She said Kukai Ranch," he whispered. Kurama looked at him for one second, his eyes wide and his heart thumping in his chest. Then, without another word, he dashed out of the room. Kurama ran up the stairs as fast as he could and bolted down the hall toward Koenma's office, praying that they were not too late.

* * *

TWO HOURS REMAINING

Gail rotated her jaw gingerly and winced. It was not broken, but it was close enough. Her face was puffed and bruised, and she felt two holes where teeth had once rooted. The thought sent a pang of anger down her spine, but she took deep breaths to steady herself and closed her eyes. She wanted to rub her body for warmth, or possibly eat her own fingers (her gnawing stomach had already turned to digesting itself) but she was too weak. _Damn you,_ she thought bitterly. _Gods damn you._

She thought about Rika, quite sure that she would never see him again, one way or another. She thought about her family, whom she had not seen in years, and who had probably all died by now anyway. It occurred to her that she had once had a little sister. She thought that her sister had died long ago. Gail pulled at her restraints, feeling the sting of pain rush through her wrists. She stopped, unwilling to go through any more. _Guess I threw in with the wrong lot,_ she thought, her head throbbing in pain._ I was never smart enough to know the best for myself, anyway. _

She leaned her head back, looking at the ceiling. It was the same boring white tile as the walls were. She thought that soon she should get up and try walking, which she did at least once or twice a day—it was hard to keep track when there was no clock in the room. And damn, if that wasn't one of the worst things about her prison. _Aside from the torture_, she reminded herself. Her chest hitched as she sobbed a little. _Yeah. Aside from that. At least it's almost over now. One way or another. _

She looked up at the ceiling and dozed off, clearly exhausted. She fully expected her guard to come and wake her up, but he was shaken, and couldn't look at her. _Clever_, she thought. _Clever ploy, to force two unwilling victims together_. And it had worked, too. She dozed lightly, not truly sleeping, but when the footsteps began to echo in the hallway outside her door, she snapped awake. Gail tilted her head, listening. They were her enemies' footsteps, no doubt, but faster and slightly heavier. She could imagine the way he must be feeling now. Hearing him approach, she threw her head back and began to laugh.

Kurama, hearing her laughter, ran forward and stole the key from the nearest guard, opening the door himself. He could not afford to wait. He silently ran to her, hands outstretched and reaching. Gail's laughter filled his brain, echoing around in his skull like a funeral march. Breath tearing from his chest, eyes flashing with rage, Kurama fell on her, hands moving to her throat.

Gail thrashed, wishing with every fiber of her being that she could have some air. She tried to suck it in and only succeeded in causing her back and throat to seize up in pain. Within moments, she'd be fatally wounded. Or perhaps dead. She flailed, trying to slap him away. He ignored her blows completely and stared right into her eyes, watching them come in and out of focus. She had never seen such cruelty as that which she saw in his eyes. In his mind, he counted with cruel slowness, ticking off the numbers calmly despite his fury.

At thirty, he let up, allowing air to flow into her throat. She coughed, spat it out, and then sucked it back down again in a rattling, dry breath. She thrashed, trying to breath, unable to take in any air at all. She was feeling faint, losing control of herself. She was growing weaker. He asked the question over and over.

"Where—is—he?"

_"Where—is—he?"_

"WHERE—IS—HE?" 

He let her go once more, keeping his hands close by in case she had not yet had enough. She looked into his cold green eyes, and knew that she could never win. "Fu-fuz—" she coughed, unable to continue. Kurama neared her face, waiting with deadly silence. Finally, she whispered it with her broken breath. "Fuzen Castle."

Kurama stood, walking to the door as quickly as he could. He turned back and said to the guard, "leave. Do not enter this room until I return." The guard followed his orders, glad to be set free. Kurama looked at Gail with bitter, cool fury and flicked a seed at her. Then he closed the door, and began to run for the last time.

* * *

TWO MONTHS LATER

Kurama found himself once again descending the stairs to the Spirit World prison. He moved slowly beneath the bright lights, feeling a weight attached to him that he hadn't predicted. It was such a heavy burden that it was taking a physical toll. He stepped down stair after stair, pausing every once in a while just to think. The air down here was cold and recycled, evidence that no one new had been confined in this prison for quite some time. The thought made him feel somehow accomplished. Finally, he arrived at the bottom of the stairs. He closed his eyes, taking in the smells, remembering all he had done to get Hiei back. Remembering the desperation he'd felt, the misery, the anxiety. The loss that had fallen so hard on him and the rest of the team. He took deep breaths, trying to calm himself, feeling the effects of that time even still.

He opened his eyes again and looked around. It was much the same way he remembered it; identical cells, almost all of them empty. No ogre guards stood waiting to greet him, though; the hall was deserted, the cold tile giving the entire place a feel of empty loneliness. He stepped forward under the light, trying to remember which had been Gail's cell. Despite the number of times he'd been down here, trying to find some link to Hiei, it was a long minute before he remembered which one it was. He went to it, feeling that burden weigh on his chest, feeling his heart in its heavy rhythm.

"Fox, slow down," Hiei snapped from behind. Kurama turned, smiling, to see Hiei arriving at the bottom of the stairs, crutches supporting him as he hobbled on his good foot.

"Sorry," Kurama said, his smile slowly fading. The one word was to make up for leaving Hiei on the stairs, which were difficult for him, but it reminded him of everything he owed his best friend. "I'm sorry."

Hiei looked up, surprised, and gave Kurama a look of annoyance before taking the last step. "I told those fools I don't need these bloody things," he said, resting on his good foot and waving one of his crutches in the air.

"If you want to walk without a limp, you do," Kurama said, going back to stand beside his friend. By now, Hiei's face was gaining its color back, and he had lost the emaciated look that he had had when—no, Kurama did not want to think about that. But even as he looked Hiei in the eye, he remembered the way the demon had looked when they had finally found him curled up in the darkness of the dungeon of Fuzen Castle. He had been freezing to the touch, starving, half-mad, and too wounded to feel much pain. _I'll never forgive myself. It was my fault. _

"You're doing it again," Hiei snapped, stepping forward. He "accidentally" let his plastered foot fall on Kurama's toe, and smirked.

"What?"

"Taking all the credit," Hiei said, moving forward with the help of his crutches. "If I hadn't fallen asleep after you left, I wouldn't have been captured."

"Hiei," Kurama said, hurt cracking his voice. The fire demon glared over his shoulder.

"That's no more ridiculous than you blaming yourself. You had no part in it. Get over your ego," Hiei said, and began moving slowly down the hall. Kurama took a deep breath, and then allowed Hiei's words to soak in. He followed his friend, pointing out the right cell when they got to it. Hiei told him to open the door, and he did so, though it was one of the few things in the world that he didn't want to do for Hiei. He did not see what good could possibly come of this, but Hiei had insisted. They walked into Gail's cell, and the stench assault their noses immediately. Hiei held out better, pretending as though it didn't bother him, but Kurama had to breathe through his mouth.

After a minute of surveying the scene, Hiei cursed quietly. He turned back to Kurama slowly, moving his whole body rather than just turning his head. Once he'd fully faced the fox, he only stared. Behind him, Gail was on the floor, dead. Kurama's eyes moved over the scene, and he was surprised to find that he felt no guilt for this whatsoever. Hiei was staring at him, and Kurama shuffled uncomfortably. "What?"

"She eventually died from lack of water," Hiei said tonelessly.

Kurama nodded, looking away from the person he had gone through so much to save. "I smuggled another demon out of the prison in her place as soon as we found you," he explained.

Hiei glanced back over his shoulder, looking at the scene. When he faced Kurama again, his expression was difficult to read. After a while, he spoke, asking the same question that Koenma had a few months before him. "Fox, did you do this to find me, or did you do this to get revenge?"

Even now, Kurama did not know the answer.

_terminus_


End file.
